Boats Against The Current
by wildonce
Summary: "Why can't we hear you?" Sam asks and it's like déjà vu. He's doing it on purpose, trying to knock her off balance. Ignoring the pain churning in her gut, she just shrugs and gives him another cocky little smile. "I'm special." Post-NM Au Slow burning L/J
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight. I claim none of it. **

Boats Against The Current

Chapter One

She has never been one for hysterics. They do nothing for her. Leah's the one to come to in a crisis, everyone knows it. Still, she wonders if they would be surprised at just how quickly she works it all out. There is fifth teen minutes between the end of her world and the start of her new one, fifth teen minutes from the moment she watches her dad fall and the moment she understands. Or, at least begins to understand.

She vows never to speak of those minutes, they are hers alone and lost to everything and everyone else. Her mind was not under her control, neither her feet-paws or finger-claws. No one has the right to see her like that.

She is a werewolf. A protector. She could hardly miss that, what with the four legs she stands upon. Seth is one too, she'd seen him with a tail, sandy fur standing straight out. But then, why cant she hear him? The legends of her people, tales she had thought much too tall not an hour ago, were her bedtime stories, her lullabies, her first reading material. She knows them like the back of the hands that she no longer has.

The Protectors are of one mind, seamless communication and understanding that makes them the ultimate fighting machine. The silence isn't her only concern, the protectors are the men - _boys_ - of the tribe and she certainly isn't that. She is missing something. They are all missing something.

* * *

><p>To begin with she runs, her legs eating up the miles and taking her as far from her fallen father as possible. The sight of him - breathless, eyes wide, frightened - won't leave her, it circles like a vulture at the back of her mind as she thinks, waiting for its moment. She refuses to give it one and so keeps running. Nothing is certain yet, nothing is fact.<p>

She felt Seth try and follow at first but he quickly stopped, turning and heading deeper into the woods while she ran up the coast. She only stops when there is no more to north than water. That same something new tells her it isn't far enough but she ignores it, collapsing in a heap in some dark corner of the woods. She wants to see nothing but black, smell only decay in her new wolf nose and feel hard, barren earth underneath her paws. Life is painful, too bright and fragrant.

Then there is nothing but waiting. Limbo. She replays her history-turned-future, losing the present in the haze of memory. Her dad's voice plays like a record in her mind as she gleams each and every detail from him. Speed. Heat. Strength. Duty.

They - Seth and her - aren't alone. It all makes sense, Sam and his disappearance, his gang.

For just a moment, _one single second_, she feels nothing but gratitude for Sam. He had withdrawn from her, tried to keep her from this new life. The feeling quickly passes and she goes back to that familiar burning resentment, wallowing in the comfort of the its dry heat. There is still Emily and betrayal from both sides, that she cannot forget or forgive.

* * *

><p>The smell of them comes much before she sees them. It's well into the night by then and she had long ago given up her dark corner, moving down past Ozette Lake and pacing circles into the forest floor north of Forks. There are four of them - North, South, East and West - each with their own variant of what she guesses is the patent werewolf smell and their own wet, sticky rhythmic beat.<p>

West gives himself away first, the wind working against him as it blows off the sea and brings him straight to her nose. Instinctively, she turns east. Not even five minutes of running and she scents number two, closer than the first. Without even needing to turn north or south she knows exactly what is happing. That new element in her mind, _instinct_, tells her to run, to get away from these bigger, stronger threats, but she isn't an animal and refuses to be ruled like one.

So she stays, sitting pretty like a dog waiting for a treat and snorting massive puffs of air at the irony of it.

Her bravado, her human sense of dignity, they go flying as soon as they come into sight. West and East are big, East the colour of a dirty nickel and the other a sombre brown and it is all too easy for these new eyes track the thick muscles that coat each inch of them. They are nothing compared to the other two, both as big a show horses and teeth as sharp as ice picks that seem to draw the little light the moon smuggles through the dense canopy. There is little difference between them in size but she thinks South might just have the edge over the pure black monster from the north. She's up now, on all fours and she can feel each and every hair on her enlarged body as it sounds yet another warning. Her eyes refuse to meet theirs, intent as they are on the rippling and flexing mass of power that sits below the neck.

No, she whispers, no. She'll wait, she needs news, needs answers. No matter what is happening to her, what is happening to her dad, she has to make sure Seth is alright and that he is being taken care of. Her dad would have wanted that and no matter what they know that she doesn't, she won't let him be disappointed in her.

They seem confused, head tilts and sidelong glances shooting around the square they have formed with her in the centre, as if they hadn't even expected to get this far. There isn't anything she can do but wait for them to decide, to act. It takes longer than any of them are comfortable with but eventually she sees North turn, the movement catching her off guard. The other three see her aborted turn and move in closer to compensate. She doesn't like that, both the Leah bits of her mind and the new instincts and she isn't at all sorry about the snarl that rips from her.

There is a strange ripple in the air, a fundamental change and it stops the threatening sound. Her ears cock back and she lifts her head slightly, scenting the air for the change. There isn't one, not in smell, but that sticky thump that was North has become much smaller, slower. Human.

"Lee," he nods, a sad sad look on that familiar face as it comes into view. She should have known he would come, that the black monster would be Sam. It is _oh_ so fitting. "You know what's happened? You understand?"

She doesn't give him any response. He knows she does, they all do and he is stalling.

"Why can't we hear you?" Sam asks, his voice breaking and his face twisting in a way she has never seen before.

If you had asked her yesterday, she would have said without a doubt that she had seen every expression that could grace his face. She would have assured you she had seen agony but this, it is so much more. Now he has two faces and she knows neither of them.

The three that are still wolves all let out a whimper, a sound that hurts something deep in her that she didn't have before then. An echoing sound builds in her but she cuts it off, refusing to give them anything when they are holding back the thing she _needs_. Instead, she snarls deep and low and rumbling.

Sam gets the idea.

"Seth is with Embry. He isn't doing so good," he admits and she does whimper then. It's coming. "Your dad….he didn't make it, Lee Lee. He was gone before your mom got him to the hospital."

He is still talking, the others are still whimpering and shuffling but it is nothing. She can't breath and she can't see and everything burns and aches and is numb at the same time. Not until then had she understood what pain is. She doesn't know how long she goes missing but suddenly someone is touching her, a hand with five familiar fingers digging itself into the hair at the back of her neck.

She runs and she does not once look back.

* * *

><p>Time doesn't mean much of anything. There is no Monday, no Tuesday, no fun filled weekends. There isn't anything but light and dark and it seems natural to lose herself. She does not count the days, doesn't keep track of anything at all.<p>

Everything that is human, that is her, that is Leah rests, sitting quietly in the back while this new side takes over. Instinct is everything; her compass, her provider, her parent. She eats deer and rabbit, drinks from streams and closes her eyes rather than see the reflection in the rippling surface. Smells reach her nose and she runs, not caring that sometimes it's something that smells similar to her. The wolf keeps her safe and she is grateful to the thing she had so easily scoffed at before. She can't imagine anything that she will ever need or want that could bring her back.

Those lost fifteen minutes, the one's she will never speak of, they swell until she has no idea of how long Leah has been gone.


	2. Chapter 2

Boats Against The Current

Chapter Two

Everything is the same when she finally comes back, the same but different. More. She see's more, smells more, hears more. She isn't sure how long it's been since she was here and that makes her cautious. It was easy enough to slip by the wolves unnoticed, though she imagines they will smell her soon enough, but now there are human eyes to consider. She had debated just making a run for it, dashing across the streets in her wolf skin until she reaches her house but had decided against it quickly.

She can't be seen.

Going human wasn't an option either, as she had discovered. The first time she had manages to change herself back, going from four legs- Leah to two legs-Leah, she'd been shocked by her own naked skin. Of course it made sense when you consider it, her jeans were hardly going to change with her. So she couldn't go human either, a naked teenage girl running through La Push was sure to cause just as much gossip as a giant teenage wolf , only of a much different kind.

It had taken her a few days to come up with her plan after she had decided it was time to come home. It was the third complication that had worried her most; who she could trust. She couldn't go home, not straight away at least when her house had no bordering tree line and so that meant she had to go to someone for help. Sam had been the most obvious choice. She knew he was a werewolf , having seen him in both his forms, but she wasn't sure if she could _trust _him. Not just with the secret but with _her. _She hadn't forgotten the way they - Sam and his three massive friends - had boxed her in. Or the scents, similar to her, that had encroached on her peace and made her run.

The second name to come to her was less obvious but she could still see logic in it. Old Quil. He was on the Council and had been involved in almost all of the meetings her father had had with Sam after he returned from his disappearance. So she guessed it was safe to assume he knew the big secret. Not only that but he had a house that was not only secluded but which bordered on all but one side by the forest. Perfect.

Now she only had to hope that showing up, naked, on his doorstep wouldn't add yet another death to her conscience . Not wanting to lose herself in the darkness that thought could bring her, Leah focussed on the strong, steady heartbeat coming for inside the small house. She could do this.

Changing back to her human self came easy. To begin with it had burned, a constant struggle of pain against will every time she had tried, but now it seemed natural. Like she had been doing it forever. Leaving the cover of the trees felt the complete opposite. She had been cocooned in the forest for so long, fully embracing both her own and Mother Nature, that her old world seemed threatening. Knowing better than her instincts in this case, she pushed away the fear and strode quickly towards the porch.

The steps creaked as she put her weight on them and the noise caused her to still, listening with her head cocked for any change in the heartbeat coming from inside. Hearing none, she carried on forwards and knocked on the door. This was the bit she had been dreading, those few seconds between the knock and when the door would open. She'd known her self consciousness would rise up and it did, her whole body being flushed with the heat of her embarrassment. _What the fuck am I thinking? _Lost in her own thoughts, Leah almost misses it when the door does open. The gasp and the speeding heart bring everything right back into focus.

"Leah," he gasps, looking more shocked than she's ever seen him. Or maybe he's horrified, she's not sure.

"Gramps," she croaks back, meaning it to sound light and playful like it always has before. She hasn't used her voice in - well, she isn't sure how long it's been but it's been long enough. "You plan on letting me in?"

Her words seem to shake him out of his shock - horror, whatever- and he darts away without saying anything. He's faster than she would have bet. The fact that he leaves the door open is as good as an invitation, so she wanders in. The soft carpet feels wrong against her feet, the fibres tickling her toes and arches and she stands still after shutting the door, not wanting to go any further.

"You're muddying my floor," Old Quil tells her as he comes back down the corridor that she knows leads to his bathroom and bedrooms. There's a blanket in his hands, an old patchwork one that Leah's slept with more times than she can count, extended out towards her. She doesn't take it until he is close enough that she doesn't need to move her feet. "How are you, kid?"

She burrows into the blanket instead of answering, her head lowering so she can sniff the edge that brushes against her collarbone. It even smells old. "How long has it been?"

"Come sit down," he urges, grabbing her arm through the quilt and pulling her over to the sofa.

She doesn't want to sit down, doesn't want to make it dirty or start bawling at the first sign of comfort. Comfort is something she feels utterly divorced from, and that's alright. She likes this control that she's gained over her own self again, her dominance over the animal, and comfort has no place in her now. Old Quil has that look though, the one that he says he keeps just for her and she knows he won't answer her until she sits down. She is proud when she doesn't cry.

"So? How long?"

Sighing he leans back into the soft cushions. "Nearly two months, it's May." Not as long as she'd thought then.

"How's my mom?" She asks, her eyes looking at her toes. They are black, coated in layers and layers of earth. Nature follows her.

"She's good," the man nods and she can feel his eyes on her. "She's had Seth and me and Billy and Charlie," he tells her, drawing out the and's. She gets it.

"I'm fine," she tells him and she means it. "Today, this…it's hard, harder than it's been for awhile."

"You're going home," he tells her all severe sounding and she laughs because that at least is familiar.

"I was hoping you'd offer up your shower and turn a blind eye when I steal some of Quil's clothes first."

"I'll do you one better," he replies, catching on and joking with her. "I'll even drive you home."

She'd thought the shower would make her feel more human, at least that's what she'd always heard. Instead she just feels sick. The soap had burned, smelt so strong she hadn't even dared to open any of the assorted male orientated shower gels that were sitting around the tub. Shampoo had been a necessity and her head had been spinning with the manufactured apple scent by the time she was ready to rinse. She skipped the repeat, breathing only slightly easier when all the suds had disappeared down the drain.

Quil's room had been even worse. She vividly remembers the stench that would start to ooze from Seth's room every few weeks, that classic un-washed teenage boy odour. This was something else and she'd had to resist the urge to go looking for decomposing body parts while she rifled through his drawers for something human sized. Clearly she wasn't the only one who'd had a growth spurt.

Not once does she stop, her body, her mind and her eyes in constant motion. If she stops, she'll want to stay still for almost forever.

"I might have blocked your drain," she tells Old Quil as she walks back into the living room. He hasn't moved from his spot on the couch and just chuckles lowly at her, not turning round. "And it smells like Quil is keeping dead things in his room."

"That's my boy," he keeps chuckling.

Leah's always liked that about him. He's so easy going, never showing a sign of having a temper. Everyone else she's ever known has been mad with her more times than she can count on her fingers and toes, but never Old Quil. Her tone hadn't been friendly or nice but he ignores that and deals with the things beneath it. He says she reminds him of Sarah, his niece and Billy's dead wife. She has always taken it as a compliment.

Her clean skin, leafless hair, Capri length shorts and tent zip up jumper make her feel more human, more like she belongs here. She doesn't hesitate or perch on the edge this time when he pats the space next to him. It's oh so easy to sit back and just sink in. She even sighs. She expects the wolf to bubble up, to fight her again, but it doesn't. Maybe it needs this too.

Another thing she likes about Old Quil, he's not afraid to just let you be still and quiet, just to think it all out. She used to come here, ever since she was old enough to wander the res on her own and just sit with the old man. Sometimes he would tell her the legends but mostly they would just sit.

"So Quil, huh? She smirks, breaking the silence. He nods, a soft smile on his thick lips. "When?"

"Not long after you," he tells her, the smile slipping a little and becoming much more real. It's honest, that smile.

"I must admit I am a little disappointed," she says slowly as she stretches her long legs out in front of her and crosses her ankles. He's sitting exactly the same way and she catches his quick half smile with the corner of her eye.

"Why's that, kid?"

"I'd have expected them to be here by now. I smell….unique. You'd have thought they'd have caught it by now but then, obviously not," she shrugs pretend careless.

"Maybe they have," he replies after one beat his, three beats hers. "Maybe they are on their way or maybe, maybe they're afraid of you."

"Yeah," she says between a snort and a dry chuckle, "maybe."

She gets what he means, she just doesn't believe it. Don't be afraid of them. Not likely.

"Come on, kid, enough stalling. Let's get you home," he orders with a slap to her knee.

Her eyes stay trained on her feet as she walks to the door. Old Quil, the old quilt, the off-white bathroom tiles and the worn brown carpet are the only things not attached to her own body that she's let her eyes settle on during the whole visit. This house is filled with memories of her dad and even more obvious photos of him litter the walls. She isn't quite ready for them yet. She will cry when she gets home, she knows that, but she wants to keep it for there. Her grief has been private up until now and she wants to keep it that way.

They are silent on the short drive, her staring at the passing scenery while he watches the road. The people they pass stare hard and for the first time she wonders what story they'd come up with to explain her sudden absence. She'll go along with it no matter what it is but can't work up the energy to care enough to ask yet.

When they are a few minutes from her house her hands fly to the stiff turner and she rolls down the window, not even caring about the laugh Old Quil tries to hide when she sticks her head all the way out of it. This is home and she wants to know it. There are so many smells that she can hardly process them all but it's a smell she wants to stamp on her brain.

This is what it's all for.

Her head is still hanging out when her house comes into view, nestled between two houses that are similar but not enough to make it boring. Two stories, her window at the back with the bathroom, while her parents - _her mom's- _and Seth's are at the front. There's no sound coming from inside other than the electrical buzz that she knows from Old Quil's. No heartbeat, nobody home.

"Where's Sue?" She asks, putting all of her back in the truck with it's peppermint smell.

"Work," is all she gets in reply. She's glad he doesn't offer to stay.

"Thanks, Gramps. I'm sure I'll be seeing ya," she says with a smile, pushing the door open and hopping out.

"Tomorrow I'd bet, kid. Glad you're back," he replies sounding sincere.

With a nod she's slammed the door and heading towards the blue front door. Seth had helped their dad repaint it last summer, leaving it shinny and new against the chipping dirt battered white of the outside walls. They won't paint it again, not if she has anything to say about it. The door isn't locked but then, she can't remember a time when it ever was, and it sounds just the same only louder as it opens.

Everything looks the same. The kitchen is still spotless apart from the counter closest to the door, next to the fridge, where everyone dumps their keys and change and general crap. The sitting room is still the same, her dad's chair still where it's been for years. His pipe isn't on the table anymore though and there's no book with a spine so creased it won't close on the worn left arm.

The tears come then and she's had enough of looking. Her feet take her to the bedroom without thought and she smiles through the salt when she see's the open door. Her mom always made them leave their door open when they went out, saying that it's better to see an open door when you come home. Welcoming you back, she'd said. Everything inside is exactly where she left it but she can smell and see that someone's been in, freshening things up and changing her sheets.

They are soft and sweet fruit smelling when she falls into them, burying herself under the dark purple duvet and whispering her pain into the pillow.

* * *

><p>There is someone with her when she wakes up. She keeps her eyes closed, her breathing calm and listens. The person - a human, not a wolf -is close, sitting right next to her bed but lower down. On the floor then. She can't tell how long she has been asleep but it has to have been awhile, long enough for there to be no yellow-red light hitting her closed eyelids.<p>

"You're awake," the person speaks, laughter coating the words.

"I'm awake, "Leah replies, smiling into her pillow. Her mom.

"I wasn't sure you would ever come back," her mom tells her and Leah turns towards the sound.

She can only see the back of her head, the dark brown hair that still isn't going grey hanging loose, the ends touching the dark green sheets of Leah's bed. The smell that Leah associates with hospitals clings to her, the alcohol wipe scent itching her nose and making her want to sneeze.

"I wasn't sure you would want me to," she answers. She never needs to lie or sugar-coat things with her mom and it probably wouldn't work if she did.

"Always," comes the hard reply, the word filled with power and certainty. If Leah had heard that word said _exactly _that way, she wouldn't have cared about running through the streets with four legs and fur. She wouldn't have been strong enough not to.

"I killed him," Leah tells her, needing to say the words that have been burning in her for too long.

Her mom spins round, her back moving away from the bed as she turns until she's raised up on her knees with her forearms on the dark sheets and her eyes locked on Leah's "Never say that, never even _think _it, Leah. He killed himself. His body, _his _choices."

"But-" she begins but is cut off when her mom starts shaking her head and lifts one hand to put it against her cheek.

"No," she's told. "Nobody blames you. Nobody even thought it. You knew, your dad knew, we _all_ knew, his heart was struggling."

The tears are falling again and Leah wants so much to believe what her mom's saying, wants it so badly. "I missed you," she whispers as she pulls herself up and launches her body across the bed until her arms wrap around her mom's neck. Strong arms squeeze her close and Leah let's herself think that maybe her mom is right. Maybe nobody blames her.

By the time she pulls back, Leah's memorised what's Sue under all the hospital stench and the tear tracks down her face have dried in.

"You hungry?"

That's all it takes to break the tension and they are both laughing, looking away and then laughing harder when one of them looks back.

* * *

><p>"Squirrel? Really? I'd have thought they'd be too small to make it worth the effort," Sue muses.<p>

They are both sitting at the kitchen table, smack dab in the middle of a rather bland dinner of rice and chicken. The cupboards aren't empty but Sue and her medical mind won't let her eat anything with flavour. Leah felt comfortable, at ease and she'd slipped right back into her easy relationship with her mom.

"Well I had deer too," she laughs back. It's surreal, sitting speaking about her diet since she became furry while surrounded by their shinning modern appliances that catch her eye every few seconds. Her head is spinning again. Everything is so bright and loud and _strong._ "Doesn't Seth eat while he's a wolf?"

"God, I wish. The grocery bill has more than doubled. He's literally eating us out of house and home. I don't think any of the pack eat while they are phased," she explains before taking another bite. Even the chef can't contain a grimace.

"Phased? Pack?" Leah asks. She's glad the conversation has meandered this way on it's own. She needs to know more, needs to understand what's the same and what's different.

Her mom looks shocked for a second, her eyes going wide and her hands stopping mid-air, then she just looks gutted, those green eyes filling with water. No tears spill out, Sue Clearwater never cries but it takes a minute for her to get it back under control again before she can explain. "We - _they _call it phasing when they go from human to wolf or vice-versa. And the Pack…well that's what they are, a pack of wolves."

"Right, okay. So this thing we do is phasing. Who's the we? All the boys who shaved their hair? Sam's _gang_?"

"Yes," she nods, only giving a light scowl at the dreaded G-word. Leah had brandished it around enough in the weeks before she changed that Sue had made it a swear word in the Clearwater house. They can swear, at least she can, but you have to pay the dollar. She'd lost a lot of dollar's that way. "Jacob did Seth's. He was nice about it, Seth said. Hopefully they'll let me do your's, not so straight edges that way."

"What? You'll do my what?"

"Your hair. Sam will make you cut it." She says it with such a challenging glint in her eye and Leah knows there is something more going on beneath the words.

"I'd like to see him try," Leah answers, sure of herself. How exactly does her mom expect Sam will _make _her do anything?

"He is the Alpha," Sue tells her, taking a bite of chicken after the too precise words. Sue said alpha like it owned the capital, _Ah-lll-pha. _

The legends flash through Leah's mind like a photo album, the pages only coming to a stop when she reaches the one with the information she needs. The Alpha leads the Protectors. Traditional alpha male bullshit. She still doesn't understand how that gives Sam authority over _her. _

"Not mine."

"Good," her mom answers and Leah knows she has just passed some sort of test. An important one.

"Leave me out of it," she warns. "I've got enough to deal with without you tribal politics."

"Too late. You _are _tribal politics, wolf girl. The words you say, your actions, they have power now and they are going to effect a lot of things for a lot of people. So, you better get used to it."


	3. Chapter 3

Boats Against The Current

Chapter Three

Nothing fits anymore. Well, some things fit but Leah's never been one for the porn star look; tight tight t-shirts that ride up on her stomach and jeans that sit on the curve of her ass. She can't imagine the Elders being pleased if she shows at the bon fire sporting that particular look, though it might be worth it just to see the horror on Old Quil's face. He hadn't been able to look her in the eye when he'd come round the day before and she could almost see the memory of her dirty naked skin flash behind his eyes when she'd opened the door.

Her skin itches, chafes at the tightness anyway. It feels wrong. The wolf will easily accept a bed and a nice soft seat, showers and a hot meal, but clothes that cling every inch of her are a no.

"You can't wear that," her mom tells her, shaking her head as soon as Leah steps off the last stair. That was the reaction she'd expected.

"I can't wear anything else," she retorts, stopping and pulling at the black zip-up. Quil's black zip-up. It's the only thing - paired with the too long shorts- that she's worn since she came back, unless you count the old smelling blanket.

The clothes smell like her now, not in a dirty sort of way, she has washed them, but more in a comfort way. When all the smells get to much she just has to pull the hood forward a little and burrow her face right on in it and then she can breath again. And they hang instead of hug.

"You need to stop doing that," Sue sighs, looking tired and worn. "They aren't going to do anything to you, Leah. This is a bon fire for you, to let you know the things that you need."

Right. Leah's pretty positive there is more to it than that. "That's why Seth hasn't been home to, right? For me."

Her mom doesn't respond to that because, really, what could she say? Old Quil and Billy had wheeled right on up on Tuesday morning all false smiles and 'we've arranged a party just for you' before turning and heading back towards the Black's. Oh and did we forget to mention, so sorry, but Seth is really busy with pack business and won't be home for a few days. Goodbye now.

Leah's instant reaction had been to shout after them, demand to know where the fuck her brother was and why he wasn't being allowed to come home. Then, she'd tell them to shove there bon fire. But, the words her mom had said the night before had started ringing in her ears. Her words, her actions, mattered now. So she didn't. She stood, her hand digging into the wood of their door from holding it so tight.

Neither her nor Sue have left the house Tuesday or the whole of today, they haven't even opened the door since Billy and Old Quil left, but now they've got no choice. Sue, she actually wants to go and thinks that Leah's being dramatic but then Leah is pretty positive that her mom hasn't been hunted and cornered by four of the Pack.

La Push sets her teeth on edge now. It isn't the safe haven that it has always been and as much as human-Leah wants to ignore that she can't, every breath she takes speaks danger in her mind. She wants to see Seth though and that want is enough to override her instincts that scream run run run.

They drive at Leah's insistence. It's a short walk but it's dark out already and she doesn't want her mom to have to walk back in it on her own if things go south. The windows are all up but she can still smell them and it sets her teeth on edge. She's shaking a little by the time they get out and her mom's sympathetic look only makes it worse. The rumble of conversation and the crackle of a large fire fill her ears. She wishes the hot fire smell would dull down the werewolf scent but it doesn't, each and every individual variation reaches her loud and clear. The human smells are almost completely erased.

Seth, Seth. Seth, she sings in her mind and her feet finally unstick enough that she can lift them to follow after her mom. It's slow going and her well worn Chuck Taylors suddenly seem to be made of lead.

Leah knows the trick well, she has used it often enough since she took back control. Instinct is strong but emotion is stronger. If you desire something enough, if you feel like you need it or you won't be able to take another breath, then you can get it. Even if the animal inside is clawing at your back, ripping you up as it struggles against your steps, you can get it. This is her body and she's the one in charge of this partnership.

Like she knows it would the shaking stops and her feet stick less.

Sue reaches the crowd seconds before she does, moving through the massive boy bodies as if they are nothing to take a place right next to Billy and his chair. They are separate from the rest, Old Quil, Sue and Billy sitting several few back from the fire and wolves. Everyone turns as one then, seven wolfs and three humans, to stare at her. This is it, Leah realises, she can't afford to show any fear now. No weakness at all.

"Leah," she hears and her eyes snap to a boy she used to know. He's stuck between two bigger boys who move to the side a little so he can slip out. He's smiling with all his teeth. Seth.

"I'm glad you're back, Lee," her brother whispers once he's landed right in her arms. Actually, she's more in his. He is bigger than her.

"I'm glad you're safe," she whispers back, glaring at the black monster over her brother's shoulder. He can't meet her eye and that makes her smile, her whole body glowing with satisfaction as she pulls Seth tighter to her. "You doing okay?" she whispers right in his ear, just for him.

His reply is muffled by Quil's hood but she gets the gist. He's alright, not good but probably better than her. She listens and breathes him in, learning him again as her new self just like she'd done with her mom. Seth doesn't smell like an enemy, he's part of her pack. Family.

"Leah, Seth, come sit down," their mom calls out breaking their bubble.

"Come sit with me," Seth prompts, grabbing her sleeve and already dragging her forward. "Embry'll move, right?"

"Sure," a deep voice mumbles as she stumbles over feet and legs as Seth pulls her along. That isn't the voice she remembers and it certainly isn't the voice of a boy. It's deep, so rich and rumbling that it can only be supernatural coming from a boy. So, not only their bodies have grown. There's no crack in it, no dip or squeak that screams puberty.

She wants to look around, to take them all in, cataloguing there differences but Leah keeps her eyes to herself. She's seen enough to know that their size difference is proportional in this form too. They would hear her fear, her trepidation in the racing of her beat and she can't let them.

"We're here to welcome back one of our own, our sister," Billy begins in a steady deep voice. "We are here to honour a Protector of our tribe."

Everyone sits on the edge of their log seat, silent and attentive, as Billy and Old Quil weave the tales of their ancestors. All the usual stories are there and Leah almost cries when Seth grabs her hand during the story of the Third Wife. It'd been their dad's favourite, the one he told them the most as children. He'd liked the bravery of it, the triumph of spirit over power. She can't imagine what they hope to gain by this, by sitting her here and making her listen. It all becomes clear when Billy comes to the new stories, they come near the end and make everyone sit up a little straighter. These Leah has never heard and they provide some answers.

Alpha commands and imprints. Those are the two things that stick out to her, both because of her horror , her curiosity and her unbelievable gratitude.

Lots of eyes settle on her as Billy finally finishes, waiting for some kind of reaction. She gives them nothing, having no idea what they want to hear. Seth had picked a good spot for them, facing over the fire and out towards the ocean. She breathes it in, big gulping breaths of salty air and waits for someone to break.

"You don't have any questions?"

It's ridiculous how much it pleases her that Sam's the one to crack. He'd never done well with silence and it's nice to know this whole Alpha gig hasn't changed that. Who knows that else she knows.

"None?"

"None," she agrees with a nod and a smile to the sea. They are all grumbling at that. "So, are we done then?"

"No! No," Sam repeats in a calmer tone, "no, we are not done. You must have questions. You've got to be confused. You -"

"Look, you are the one that obviously has questions, not me. I'm fine. I know what I am, I know what I have to do, I know how to do it. I'm sorted," Leah tells him, finally looking away from the waves and over at Sam. He looks just the same as he did that day, hurt expression and all. Like Seth he's sitting between two other wolves though she doesn't look hard enough to see who, her eyes trained on him.

"Why can't we hear you?" Sam asks and it's like déjà vu. The same look, the same bare chest, the same words. He's doing it on purpose, trying to knock her off balance.

Ignoring the pain churning in her gut, she just shrugs and gives him another cocky little smile. "I'm special."

_You cannot touch me._

"Leah, please. Take this seriously," Billy interjects, breaking there byplay. Too bad, she was winning.

His words cause her attention to shift to Billy and Leah does not like what she sees. He looks determined and excited, like he's about to discover something he has waited a long time for. He doesn't return her gaze, looking first at Old Quil and then her mom, getting a nod from them both. Old Quil's is fast in coming and looks solid while her mom's is slower and more a twitch than anything else. It's enough of a signal for Billy.

"What are you doing?" Leah asks as she stands up, holding on to Seth and dragging him up with her. Her skin is coated in gooseflesh, in what she assumes is the equivalent of the fur-on-end warning from her wolf.

He doesn't even acknowledge he's heard her words. "Do it, Sam," Billy orders, giving his own nod.

Feeling like a cliché, Leah's head spins again to take in Sam. He's standing up now to, squaring his shoulders and trying to look solemn. He is excited, she can tell. There's the tell tale spark in his eye and the way he can't seem to stop his right hand from flexing. Sam's eyes look dead, a solid pool of almost-black unless he is excited or angry. She used to push him one way or the other just to get that spark of life, to get those dead eyes shinning like stars at her. The flexing means excited, he has been waiting for this.

They are going to attack.

"Seth, run! Take mom and run," she shouts, the words overlapping with Sam's.

"Everyone, up. Spread out and phase," he orders. There is power in his tone and it drowns her out. "Don't leave until I say," he adds.

Seth pulls himself away from her and she turns to see him walking away from her and their mother. He's listening to Sam, they all are. Six massive boys are all on their feet and walking towards the water. But something is wrong, it doesn't look right. Their movements are stiff and precise, too precise, like someone is pulling the strings. The Alpha command. That bastard had used his voice.

"Stop it," she screams, storming over to the only one that hasn't moved. "You fucking stop it now, let them go."

Sam just watches her, cool excited eyes on her face and he is loving this, Leah just knows it. He's loving watching her lose control, lose her shit and scream at him in front of everyone. He knows how much she hates people seeing inside her and that's what emotions are; your insides all laid out for public viewing. Sam has always loved making her lose control, in an argument, in a debate, in between his sheets.

And he is loving having the power over these boys. These fucking kids. The sounds of tearing fabric and stretching muscles are booming in her ears and she wants to cry, to rip and tear and destroy this monster they have made. She can't look at the boys as their human selves disappear into giant wolf hearts.

For the first time since she returned to this place, her wolf and her human are in full agreement. This is wrong.

"So be it," someone whispers from behind her and she spins quickly. She had forgotten the Elders were even there. It's Billy that has spoken and he does not look pleased, his hands tightly clasped in his lap. Old Quil and Sue both look pleased though, sly little smiles gracing their lips.

Leah feels nothing but sick.

"You wanted him to do that? You asked him to?" They are questions but she already knows the answers, she just want's to hear the words come from their lips.

"It was necessary," her mom tells her and the two men at her side nod.

Necessary. How can it be necessary for them to take away the will of their children? To hand control of them over to a boy trying desperately to prove that he is a man.

"You make me sick," she spits, staring down Sue and then Old Quil. She doesn't bother with Billy, this was his idea she knows and she doesn't want to even waste her time on the kind of sick mind that could come up with this.

"We had to know," Sam inserts, making around the fire and towards the Elders. "We had to know if I could control you. A rouge wolf is dangerous."

There are so many things wrong with his words, so many fucked up things in that sentence that no one else seems to see. They could have asked, they could have spoke to her about it, Sam could have only ordered her. Leah doesn't know this person, it's not only his faces that have changed. Her Sam would never have wanted to control anyone. He wasn't afraid of things that are different, things that are unknown, he'd rushed towards them.

Steeling herself, locking all her hurt and anger and sorrow away, she looks at each of the four and tries to convince them with her eyes that she is stone. "I can assure you, I'm not dangerous. Not if you don't hurt my people, the people I was made to protect," she tells them, flicking her eyes over her shoulder.

That includes them, she tells them silently and hopes they have ears open enough to hear.

She leaves then, hands buried deep in the soft, fluffy pockets and her head up and proud. There's no fear in her right then, despite six werewolves tracking her movement, she isn't sure what these things she feels are. Right now they just are, nameless and no less strong for it. There is satisfaction in there and it swells at the silence she leaves in her wake, nothing but breathing and pounding hearts.

Home isn't her destination and she isn't sure if she'll even go back at all. Her mother isn't who she thought she was, no matter the reasons she should not have given Sam total authority over Seth or the rest of the wolves. It is a betrayal, of Seth, of Leah, of their family and of the rest of the wolves. She warned her, told her not to involve Leah in her politics. What happened is wrong and Leah knows her father would agree with her on that. So, her feet take her to him. Even without having asked, she knows where the bits of him that are left to her will be.

His stone sits between his father's, his mother below, and a vibrant tree. It's tall and thick, green and brown leaves that sway above her head raining down nature smells on her head. Grass already covers the ground and there is no tell tale hump like Leah had imagined in her dreams. Without the gray stone standing tall and cleaner than the rest, she wouldn't have known this was it. His name is there and his vital statistics; birth, death, brother, husband, father.

_So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past_

The words spark a memory in her but she isn't sure from where, she feels it's apt though and decides then and there not to search the words back to their origins. She wants to remember them from this moment, her own reaction the only one. Nothing else should colour her perception of these, her fathers last words. They make her feel melancholy and yet hopeful, tears glistening but not falling.

_Hi, Dad._

She wants to speak to him, to explain everything that has happened to her since he's been gone - he is the only one she'd ever tell - and to apologise. But there are woods just metres away from the raining tree and she knows what lives in the woods now. Just in case, her mouth stays shut and her face stays dry. If her dad is still out there somewhere, Leah knows he'll understand.

The night has fully settled around her by the time she is ready to leave, pitch black darkness that only her new wolf eyes allow her to navigate. Instead of leaving the same way she came, Leah heads to the woods. It's been days since she let her wolf run, her human shape hogging their shared body and she wonders If the change will hurt because of it, a punishment. It doesn't, coming as easy as always and Leah lets go again, giving over control and letting her wolf guide her. All the fight, the anger, the righteousness, it's all faded leaving her feeling nothing but alone.

Again, they both agree. This is not the place for them.


End file.
